Blue Returns
by Amaya Rayne
Summary: Sequel to Book of Blue. With the success of a final mission, the Band of Thieves is broken, leaving its members to part their separate ways. For Blue, this means back to Mirkwood where memories haunt her. But does love await?
1. Returning

Blue Returns

The forest was brighter than I remembered it, then maybe it was just me. Even though I knew the enemy shadow was gone, I was on constant alert. My hood was raised, preventing inhabitants from identifying me—or recognizing me. I smiled. It had worked so far. The border guards, many whom I recognized, didn't have the slightest clue to who they had just confronted.

I change my route, instead of heading to the castle, I went to a place I knew he would be. I was close. I passed the familiar stream and trees I recognized. However, my memory must have failed me. I arrived at where I remembered the cottage, but it wasn't there. Nothing was there.

Figuring I must just have the wrong location, I turned and walked to the castle slightly disturbed.

I shuttered as the palace grounds came into view, and my smile disappeared as I saw the courtyard. My feet stopped on their own accord as I stared at the spot. A shiver snaked up my spine and I tore my eyes away, pulling a blank scroll from the recesses of my cloak and jogged to the entrance of the king's home—no, _Legolas'_ home.

As expected, I was stopped by the palace guards who demanded the reason of my presence.

"An urgent message for His Highness, Prince Legolas," I replied holding the mashed scroll for them to see. The guard to my right made a move as if to take the scroll, but I moved it away. "I was bidden specifically from my king to make sure the contents are seen to no one other than the prince and am to see to it personally."

Nodding in understanding, the guard ushered me to follow him. The path we walked was a familiar one, and I found myself facing a door I would be happy never seeing again.

The throne room was exactly how I remembered it. At the long table, I recognized Lord Naellen, the king…the my eyes settled on the face I had only seen in my dreams for the past decade. He looked up as the doors shut and at first he didn't see me, but looked to the guard.

"My pardons, my lords," the guard greeted with a bow. "An urgent message has just arrived for the prince." He moved aside, and the Lords' eyes settled on me. I was more than glad my hood was drawn. However, my eyes were fixed on one set in the room.

His eyes perked in interest upon hearing his name, and I smiled. Apparently he did not receive many messages. I was glad, though, that I had changed from my blue cloak. He did not recognize me, but he was weary as to why his messenger would remain hooded in court.

"My lord," I greeted with a bow, lowering my voice for the sake of remaining unrecognized. "Lord Ellessar of Minas Tirith sent me. He gave me word regarding the lands of Ithilian you questioned him about." I neared the table and he stood to accept the message, his fingers lingering just longer than necessary, and his gaze piercing the darkness hidden by my hood.

Before he had the chance to open it, I continued. "And I also was bidden to return this." I reached inside my cloak and undid my belt, causing many of the lords to murmur and Legolas' eyes to widen. I smirked and slid one of the swords from leather before tightening once more. Finally visible, I produced the silver sheathed sword and laid it in his waiting hands.

He stared at it for a few moments, unsheathed it and looked at the blade. I could tell that as soon as his eyes laid on the hilt he recognized the sword and why he had not seen it in over a decade.

He looked up at me, his eyes wide. "Where did you get this?"

I smiled widely, but remembered he could not see it. "I was bidden to give it to you, your highness."

Perhaps he could sense the humor in my voice for he stepped forward, becoming angry. "Where—" he stopped abruptly, aware of everyone else in the court. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back casually. "Where did you say you were sent from?"

"I have traveled from Minas Tirith, but journeys took me far from here before I ever reached there to be sent here."

The lords murmured at my odd response and Legolas looked at me, silently questioning to not speak in riddles.

"The parchment, my lord, is from Gondor, but the sword is from somewhere much closer. I was told you would know."

The Elf's eyes traveled between the two gifts. "Of course," he mumbled, placing the sword down on the table carefully, and hesitating before unraveling the parchment.

Of course, his reaction to the blank sheet of paper was what I could expect. He crumpled it in his fist and put the sword in his belt.

"Sir," he addressed me, his voice in check. "I believe we have much to speak of." He turned to his father. "Would you please excuse me?"

I followed him out the door and worried my lower lip as he strode down hallways I did not recognize. I could barely contain my happiness to see him, but I couldn't make myself known, not yet. He had to figure it out himself, or he would be angry and disbelieving. No, I knew what I would have to do when I decided on this entrance and I would have to keep to it.

He entered a door that had his name finely scripted on the wood. I wondered if he changed rooms, but as soon as I entered, I knew this wasn't his quarters, but his study.

I shut the door behind me and turned around, half expecting him to slam me against the wall and demand answers from me or rip off my hood, both which I was prepared for.

He did neither, but paced before his desk before sitting down behind it. He put his head in his hands, his anger gone. "She's dead, isn't she?"

His words startled me. "Begging your pardon, my lord?"

"How did it happen?"

"Your highness, I never said she was dead," I replied, having difficulties disguising my voice.

"Just tell me where she is," he pleaded.

"She did as you asked and went to where you asked only to find the place gone," I said, my voice unhindered.

He looked up in surprise. "The cottage burned down years ago…" he replied, his words coming out slow as he wondered how I could know the information I was supplying. "What did she do when she discovered this?" he asked, coming toward me slowly.

"She came looking at the palace for you."

"And when she the gates, did she conceal her identity?" he whispered as he stood in front of me, his fingers reaching under the hood. I closed my eyes as I waited for the light to hit my face, but it did not. Instead of lowering my hood, his fingers reached inside the depths and touched my face, tracing my features. His fingers drifted over my cheeks, to my nose, brushing against my eyelashes, until the finally grazed my lips.

"Did she lose her blue cloak?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

I shook my head, his close proximity sending my head spinning. I reached into the cloak and pulled the article from within, holding it out to him, but he disregarded it, sweeping me into his arms and twirled me around

"Oh, I've missed you so! That was the cruelest…" he growled, holding me tight against him. I don't think either of us could believe the moment had finally come. We stood there, clutching each other.

"Don't ever leave me again," he sighed, stroking my hair. "I don't think I'll survive."

"Legolas…" I looked into his eyes, seeing the grief and pain first hand. "I'm sorry—"

"No," he said firmly. "Let us not dwell on the past. How did you know about Ithilien?"

"I didn't lie when I said Aragorn sent me. I went to Minas Tirith as soon as I heard about his coronation and the destruction of the Ring. I thought the Fellowship was there. However, they told me I had missed you."

"His coronation?"

"Apparently you then decided to go run off to go exploring with a certain dwarf?"

His expression was priceless. He appeared to be mortified at the thought of missing me by a matter of days because of his promise to go to the Glittering Caves with Gimli.

"Aluhin…"

I smiled as he said my name for the first time since my return. "Don't worry. Aragorn took care of me while we waited for word. Gimli returned when Arwen gave birth to Eldarion and we were expecting you also." I offered him a small smile. " I planned to surprise you. But when you did not arrive with Gimli…I was sure you had died in the caves. However, Aragorn assured me that after speaking with the dwarf he discovered you had only returned home and would be unable to attend."

"Aragorn had a son?" Legolas asked, bewildered.

"Of course. He sent word to you. The messenger arrived replying that you wouldn't make it."

The Elf shook his head. "I am sorry I missed you, but thank you for returning," he murmured, nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck.

"I'm sorry it took so long."

"I told you I would wait for an eternity for you, but after that day I didn't think I would see you in this life." He touched my abdomen. "How did you survive?"

I lifted my shirt to show him the scar. "Black's a phoenix. Healing powers," I replied as he traced the white scar tissue.

He nodded. "If she wasn't such foul company, I would keep her around more often. She would prove to be a good ally."

My mood instantly sobered. "Black is no more."

He stilled. "What?"

"She's gone. She found the man who mutated her all those years ago. She let us go. Then she was gone. Green—the pirate—said she had been trying to die for more millennia than history could count…" I trailed off, tears in my eyes. "I know she was cruel to me most of the time, but I owe her so much. She taught me more than I could ever dream of knowing."

He embraced me in his arms. "I know its hard, but she is no longer suffering. She's where she wants to be."

I nodded and pulled away, looking at him as he brushed away my tears. "You've changed so much…" he whispered, letting his fingers brush against my skin.

"For the better, I hope?" He nodded with a smile. "I have a surprise for you," I whispered.

His smile grew and he leaned in the kiss me, "Better than you being here?" he mumbled against my lips.

"What would you say if I decided to stick around…for a long time?" I asked taking his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

He froze, his eyes staring into mine, and his smile faded. I dropped my hand, leaving him to do what he will. I expected him to be startled and waited patiently for the information to sink in.

His fingers traced the ear slowly and I shuttered, biting my lip. "Don't do that too much," I whispered, my eyes slipping closed briefly.

"Wha…how?" he asked, ignoring my plea.

"Old man. He was some type of wizard. I found a potion for immortality and drank it. I didn't think the ears came with it." I fought against a smile as I thought of how the ears came about, and I shivered remembering the pain.

When I opened my eyes he was grinning from ear to pointed ear. I couldn't help but sport a mirroring smile.

"Are you upset?"

"Do I look upset?"

I only smiled and kissed him.


	2. Water Fight

The scene was a sorry one. The drought was affecting everything, everyone, but for some reason I didn't notice. I didn't see the flowers wither or the crops die. I didn't even notice my favorite lake begin to empty. It didn't matter.

How was I going to be happy again? How could I not ever be happy now? It was all so confusing I didn't even understand it myself.

So there I stood at the window, lost in my own little world of thought, oblivious to all around me.

Something cold on my head started me, and it grew in intensity, soaking my hair and dripping down my ears, face and neck. If it weren't for the temperature of the liquid and my startled state, I probably would have closed my eyes and savored the feel. However, instead, I jumped around to face the other in my presence.

The Elf stood behind me, a cloth dripping in one hand and a smile on his face. I was not surprised that I missed his entrance—his feet so quiet I rarely heard anything—more that I didn't feel his eyes on me.

"What are you doing?" I sputtered, wiping wet strands of hair from my eyes.

"Your mood has dampened from the weather. Since the rain will not come, I've decided to bring it to you."

The thought of the action being romantic didn't even cross my mind. Instead my eyes flickered from the bucket in his other hand to him, a plan already starting to formulate. It didn't go unnoticed by me how Elves didn't seem to like being wet, and certainly this Elf _hated _being wet, especially his hair and clothes.

The sneaky perceptive Elf caught on to my thoughts and before I could even think of moving he dashed off in the other direction. I, however, was hot on his heals, a smile breaking my face. I chased him around the cramped room, managing to shed my cloak to keep it dry, and found a second bucket of water he had obviously fetched. We flung water at each other, managing to everything wet but our targets.

We circled the bed in the center of the room, watching each other like prey. I had disregarded my tub long ago, but he hadn't seemed to notice. I held in my hand a rag, its moisture quickly leaving to trace my path. I had to act fast.

Somehow, we both stopped, daring the other to move. Without giving myself away and barely comprehending the plan myself, I hurtled over the bed and launched myself at the Elf, successfully hitting him square in the chest and tackling him to the floor. His grunt of surprise sent me into peals of laughter as I sat of his chest and squeezed my weapon into his long gold tresses.

"No, not the hair! No!"

My grin grew wider as I wiped his face and neck with the water. I sat back slightly feeling victorious when suddenly he pulled and Elf trick and flipped us over, reversing our positions. I squealed in protest, especially because of the cold surface that met my back. When I tackled him, the bucket in his hand must have spilled because its contents now lay pooling on the floor. It soaked though my clothing, but I wasn't done yet. Grabbing the two discarded cloths, I dipped them in the puddle and squeezed them over his back. Then, daring for revenge, slipped my hands under his billowing white shirt to wipe them across his sensitive stomach and chest.

However, his response was far from expected. Instead of leaping from the water and giving me the advantage once more, his eyes closed and he groaned, pressing into my hands. I paused for a moment, unsure how to react, and then did the first thing I could think of. I pushed him over and flipped, laughing at the expected startled look of his face.

But it didn't come.

My laughter eased to a grin. "I won."

He didn't answer, just stared at me, his eyes dark. "Aluhin."

His voice was deep and foreign, and my grin faded away. I could barely manage a coherent thought before his hand nested in my hair at the nape of my neck and pulled me toward him.

The kiss was demanding and passionate, and I found that I couldn't get away even if I wanted to. I gripped his shoulders where my hands remained and pressed myself into him, groaning as our tongues dueled.

Suddenly, he broke away and I found that I was on my back, Legolas above me, his shirt discarded and a wicked grin on his face.

I had no time to admire his half naked state before I saw the half empty bucket in his hands. A few seconds later, it was empty; the rest of what was inside fully drenching me.

"You didn't think I'd give up that easily did you?"

I was too shocked from the kiss, the flip, and the icy water to respond. So I continued to stare and him dumbly.

"And now, the victor receives his prize," he went on.

"Hail the victorious," I said dryly. "What does thy prince command?"

"A kiss," he murmured, his breath hot on my skin, "from the beautiful maiden."

That, I definitely did not expect, but as he began to erotically nibble my lip, I couldn't do anything but respond. His wet hair stuck to my face as I pulled him closer to me, my hands traveling down his muscular back and around to feel his chiseled chest. He shivered and groaned, breaking from my lips to nip at my throat.

Needless to say, it stormed that evening.


	3. Grief & Arguments

However wonderful Legolas' company might have been, it could only distract the pangs of mourning for so long. It was morning, long before the sun had risen. I lay restless in my lover's arms. Despite many fruitless attempts at relaxing my mind, I couldn't find peace. It surprised me that Legolas was so deep in sleep. Elvish sleep, as I had discovered, was light and easily broken. Tonight he was far gone.

It wasn't that he forgot, I reminded myself as I slipped from our tangled limbs and donned one of his cloaks over my rumpled clothes to shield me from the cool air. He had been quiet all day, speaking only when necessary and drawing me close, never allowing me to leave his side. I had a feeling it wasn't only to reassure him that I was still there; he didn't want me alone at such a time. No doubt he would be distraught when he woke up to find only an empty bed.

I didn't even think to leave a note; he'd know the reasons behind my departure and hopefully he'll grant my wish for solitude. I slipped through the door without a glance back at what I'd left behind. Making my way down the hall, I ran a hand over my face and sighed, drawing the cloak closer around me. My feet took a direction of their own, but I soon discovered where they were heading.

The darkness was blinding. My vision was literally gone when I stopped at the open doorway leading to the courtyard. I could feel the humidity, so familiar…

Eyes flashed though my mind's eye causing my breath to hitch and my heart rate to quicken. Pain erupted in my abdomen, and I clutched it, turned away and blinking the moisture gathering in my eyes. I continued walking aimlessly, and slowly the throbbing subsided.

The darkness could only be compared to two things in my life.

I ran a hand over my salty face, wiping the perspiration and tears away, telling myself not for the first time not to dwell on the past.

I grabbed the nearest lantern, clutching it tightly in my hand. Just in case.

Swallowing hard, I stood in the doorway of the prison cell. I should have smiled knowing Legolas confessed his love here, but the pain I caused him smothered all joy and held my heart in a vice grip. I fell to my knees. The bond we created tied my emotions to his own, but I knew he only allowed me to feel a fraction of what he felt, and that was enough to make my knees weak. In addition, my new-found immortality strengthened my emotions. How do Elves cope?

I rested my forehead against the cool stone wall, not caring how soot-covered it might be. Fine script met my eye. Black. I traced the dates and events, much more of it making sense since my adventures with her and her friends.

Red. I wondered if she found her…Kaldier was it? I wondered how she would fit in with civilization. Despite the loving attention of Legolas, I felt as an outsider among Elves. It was amusing to fool them everyday, but I couldn't forget their treatment towards me, couldn't find the heart to forgive them of the pain they caused us.

Green was off pirating the ocean. Would she ever settle down? Find her Jack Sparrow? I still couldn't tell if she and George hit it off or if the relationship was based on something different completely. I knew she was happy on the sea and as long as she was there she would be free.

If only I could ever be that free.

Black.

Why did I feel such compassion toward someone who was so…distant to me? Why should I care what happened to her?

I slammed my fist into the wall too hard.

Damn it! Why do I feel like this?

My tears spilled. The emotion of her passing and the day causing too much for me to handle. I clutched at the wall as sobs shook me. My head, my wound, my whole body hurt.

Would I ever seek closure?

I wasn't surprised that I didn't hear or sense the company that joined me. Someone knelt behind me and familiar arms encircled me, his forehead resting between my shoulder blades. I didn't acknowledge his presence. I couldn't. I should have known that he wouldn't let me be.

"Why do you pull yourself away from me, melamin?" he whispered. "Why do you not share your burden?"

His voice was broken, soft and pleading. I knew he hated to see me in such a state, felt too helpless.

I cried harder. I was weak at that moment and he knew it. He would break down my barriers to the heart of my pain. But I was stubborn.

"Aluhin…"

"You have your burdens and I have mine."

He was silent for a moment. "Why? Why can't we understand each other fully?"

"I cannot ask that of you!"

The silence was deafening, and I wondered if he had finally resigned from our ongoing argument. However, his voice when he spoke was so foreign and weak I knew that I had hurt him this time.

"I thought," he started, but stopped when his voice cracked. "I thought you knew." He stopped again and I could feel a wet spot growing on my back. "You can ask anything of me."

I gasped as a wave of pain hit me. It felt as though my heart was being ripped in two. I felt and extreme loneliness, betrayal, and no longer had the will to fight against it any long. I couldn't cry, couldn't breathe. My nails dug into the wall and my mouth opened in a silent scream. I felt hot...burning hot. Perspiration bubbled on my skin. My head felt light, but heavy. I was going to die.

The agony withdrew and left me completely, making my own emotions seem folly. I knew what it was that had just plagued me. Legolas. I now understood. Legolas felt me withdrawing from him and thought it was because his love was unreturned. The tears in my eyes gathered and I sucked in a breath, breathing hard in attempt to accommodate his presence within me.

I didn't fight as he turned me to face him. He lovingly wiped the dirt away from my skin with his thumb.

I looked into his eyes as I settled down and saw nothing but love and sadness, even though the gleaming tears.

"I cannot help you if you do not let me."

I stared at his perfect face, his hair mused from sleep. He seemed to glow in the lantern light.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

He pulled me to him and I buried my face in his shoulder. "I cannot do this," I sobbed, my voice muffled in his tunic. "I can't…it's too much."

I felt his hand rubbing my back in a soothing manner. "I know. It's alright." I flinched as I bumped my hand against his arm.

No doubt the perspective Elf saw this and turned his attention to the source. His face softened and he looked at the blood soaked hand with sadness and compassion. He said nothing, but wiped the blood around the wound to inspect the damage.

"Why—I mean…"

"Just relax, melamin. Just let go."

I took a shaky breath and did as I was told. For a moment I was at peace, but only a heartbeat later a force crashed into me. Pain. Confusion. Death—all around me. The dreams of my death flashed before my eyes. The nightmare's of Legolas leaving me. The warg. His father. I felt exposed.

It was as though I was being read like a book. Everything that had passed over the years coming back to me, things that I didn't need to deal with now, atop of everything else on my shoulders.

Instinctively, I shelled back up again. My mind spun and my vision was hazy. I found myself clutching Legolas and sobbing heavily. His chest puffed against me and I could feel his heavy breathing.

Oh Valar. What had I done?

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doing. I—"

His hand grasped my shoulders and pulled me just enough away to look me in the eye. "You're not going to suffer this alone. Aluhin," he said forcefully, his fingers caressing my shoulders. His eyes softened and he added quietly. "No one should ever grieve alone."

I sniffed, "But you—"

"Why did you not tell me of your nightmares?" he asked softly, "You never woke me."

I pulled my hand away and stood, turning away from him. "You weren't always there," I snapped. "You wouldn't understand. You don't know what it's like to have the one you love die over and over and over again, being afraid to close your eyes every night in fear of what you might see."

As soon as I spoke I knew I had said the wrong thing. I heard him stand, and I turned to look at him. "No, of course not. I wouldn't understand. I've never had someone I love die. I didn't have to watch my mother…" he stopped and gritted his teeth in anger, his eyes blazing. I, however stood silent, never having heard of him speak of his mother before. "I didn't have to stand by while my beloved was mortally wounded by my own father and have her stolen from my arms. No, you're right," he spat, "I wouldn't understand!"

I stared at him, dumbstruck. "Legolas…"

"I wouldn't expect you to know what I do and do not know. You don't even bother to know me. You pull away, go about your own business in your own time, expecting me to sit and wait. I'm through waiting for you!"

"It's not like you share you you're feelings either. You're so closed up, how am I supposed to know what you felt after my death? How am I supposed to know if I was causing your death? How—" I took a breath, my jaw muscles contracting as my anger rose. "For all I know you were driven by lust the short time we were together. I was a fling. All I could think on the journey home was finding you with another elleth, happily married and completely forgetting about me. You—"

"You see me as that shallow? Just making my way from woman to woman to please myself?"

"Don't you understand? I don't _know_ you. Every time we were together all we did was talk about me. Never once did you tell me anything about yourself. You could have been married, betrothed for all I knew. How—"

I stopped abruptly when I felt his hand on my arm. I quickly brushed it away.

"Damn it, get away from me!"

I threw open the door and started down the hall. His hand grasped my arm.

"Don't you dare run away from me again." His words brought me to a stop. It hadn't even occurred to me to leave, only to go to the lake—away from him—to stop myself from doing, or saying, more that I would regret.

He sighed, dropping my arm and running his hand over his face. "It's going to be a long day. Let's go back to bed and discuss this in the morning."

I turned to face him. "You can't ignore this forever."

"Aluhin—"

"Go to bed. I'm going out."

I made sure to slam the gate behind me.


	4. Meeting Ryder

"Legolas?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you know Ryder?"

"Who?"

"Black."

"Funny story actually."

"Funny?"

"No, not really."

I turned and looked at him quizzically and he smiled. We were riding through the planes of Rohan on our way to Ithilien. I had come back from our fight to find a note telling me to pack all my belongings. Legolas had laughed when I thought he was finally kicking me out.

"I love you too much to make you leave," he had said after kissing me soundly.

His father granted him permission to journey to the land near Minas Tirith with a tour of Elves to improve the land. He insisted it wasn't only because of me.

He spent a few long days carefully choosing those who would join him, making it clear that they were invitations and any declines would not be taken personally. Within a few years their families would join us after establishments were created.

We had been traveling for many days, exchanging stories of our adventures during our time in the lands. When he spoke of his time with the Fellowship many of the Elves traveling with us drifted closer to his horse. Even though they tried to appear otherwise occupied I could tell they were fully engaged in his tales. I, however, enjoyed listening to his travels with Gimli.

I sat before him of Arod, my horse being sacrificed as a pack mule. I think it was his excuse to keep me close to him. Not that I'm complaining.

"So? Are you going to keep me in suspense?" I asked when he didn't begin. Then it occurred to me speaking of Black while the Elves present were listening was probably not a good idea for concealing my identity.

"No, would you like to see?"

"See?"

He wrapped his arms around me and grasped my hands. Instantly my surroundings turned from the bright, sunny planes to the dark dungeons of Mirkwood. I was standing against a cell, my back pressed against the bars. An Elf flanked each of my sides; my eyes fixed on the two figures before me. I couldn't see her face, but I knew who it was—Black.

Her arms snaked through the bars for a fierce hold on the Elf's neck—the one who she had called Scar Ear, the very same Elf who I temporarily controlled the fate of that foreboding day…

"_There is no way you could harm him from that position_," the Elf to my right said. I immediately recognized his voice. Naellen.

"_Would you like to see me try_?" she asked, tightening her grip.

"_No_—"

"_Then here's the deal_," she started amist the guard's gasping. "_You would be so kind as to escort me out of these caves, return my effects, and watch me go without word 'til sunrise, and I shall be so kind as to let him live_."

I couldn't miss the stressed word, but I already knew the outcome. She would let all of them live.

The guard was frightened, to state the obvious. His eyes were wide and pleading with me. However, I felt unusually calm—no doubt Legolas' calm—but I could feel his hate and disgust welling up inside.

"_And what if we refuse_?" Naellen, ever the diplomat, asked.

Black leaned her head against the bars and her evil grin spread across her face. Her finger traced his ear, and I cringed, knowing what she was doing. Legolas, on the other hand, felt an uncontrollable urge to somehow inflict pain on her, seeing the action as toying with her captive.

"_Then you will have the extreme pleasure of watching your friend die…slowly_."

The guard trembled in pain as the sensitive shell of his ear blistered and boiled. I winced, shaking, remembering a similar experience with the formation of my now pointy ears.

"_And what of your friends_?" I felt myself—or Legolas—saying.

So Red and Green were there? I wondered what she would do for them. No doubt they could free themselves from the cells, but escape the guards?

"_They are not companions by choice, and they most certainly are not friends. Do with them as you please_."

Figures.

All was silent for a moment except for the guard's gasps for air and moans of pain.

"_Until dawn, you say_?" I asked. "_That is a fair ways away as it was just dawn a short while ago. Surely you don't need that much time_." I could feel a plan formulating. "_Until noon_."

"_After dark_."

"_Dusk_."

"_Dinner_."

"_Done_." Legolas concluded slightly smug. It appeared dinner was going to be served early tonight.

The guard was released and dropped to the floor. I immediately found myself on my knees beside him, questioning his well-being in whispered Elvish.

"_Go to the healers_," I ordered softly confirming her was well enough to make it there. "_Tell them what has occurred. Have them_—"

"_Just because I don't speak it doesn't mean I don't understand it_," came Black's voice. "_The guard comes too_."

"_He's been burned_," I countered in disbelief.

"_Yes, your highness_," she muttered in a mocking tone, "_I'm afraid the fire left my fingers a little warm. And like he said, he's well enough for a walk_."

Looking at the wound, it suddenly occurred to Legolas that he was dealing with much more than he bargained for.

"_We will go now_," she ordered, "_and the guard goes with us_."

I stood, Legolas' eyes measuring the woman behind the bars. She had nothing to force them to withhold their end of the accord with her captive on the ground. He was seriously considering the proposition of walking away. In any other situation he would, but he had seen what she had done to the guard's skin and didn't want to find how far her powers extended.

Reluctantly, he nodded for Naellen to open the cell.

"_Over there_," the woman indicated with a nod of her head to a thick edge of the forest encompassing the Elven cave castle. The four of us escorting her wordlessly veered from the path and stopped on her command. I could feel Legolas' impatience growing. He did not appreciate being ordered by the human.

"_If you dare come back here_," I warned, "_you will receive a less welcome greeting and will not be given the same opportunity to leave unharmed_."

"_I'll be sure to keep that in mind_," she whispered back as if trying not to alert the trees of their presence. "_Now, if you will kindly step back and join your pointy-eared friends_."

Shooting a look of disgust, he obliged simply because he wanted the woman from his sight. They watched as she fastened her belt, slipped her knives into her boots, and flung her cloak around her shoulders, quickly pulling the hood over her scarred face.

"_It's been fun_," she chided. "_Give my regards to your king; it really was a lovely dungeon_."

She had barely drawn even with the first few trees when the hunting party emerged—a small band of Elves, armed with bows, arrows, and long knives—making their way back from their day out.

"_Is everything all right, Your Highness_?" the leader called. I could feel Black's eyes embedding into me.

"_Everything is fine. Tell them to move on_," she said.

That was all they needed. She saved me from having to somehow communicate the situation. Bilinthor was not blind, thus why he had asked in the first place. Legolas made eye contact to make sure he understood.

"_Yes, Bilinthor, carry on_."

Without pause, the hunting party continued along the path, appearing to be oblivious to the exchange between me and the woman. However, they suddenly changed course with a flick of Bilinthor's wrist and came charging into the gathering, weapons drawn, but a shrill cry echoed through the clearing.

The circled and surrounded the woman and her captive.

"_I'm afraid I cannot let you go so easily_," said Naellen. He nodded to the other guard that had been in the dungeons with us. "_Bind her hands_."

However, mistaking the order, the injured guard stepped forward and with tremendous swiftness for her race, the woman flung out her arm and a small fireball appeared, making a speedy path at the guard.

It connected with the flawless skin of the guard's face and he fell to his knees with a scream. "_Aegnor_!" he cried. The other Elves, even though taken aback by this display of power, continued to circle the four Elves and the woman. A small number stepped forward in attempt to apprehend her, but a palm stopped them. She held it before her, flames flickering from her skin, in a silent message: 'Stay back lest one of you meet the same fate.'

They didn't move.

"_Step aside_!" she ordered, "_Line up over there_!" Her unoccupied hand pointed at me.

"_I said, move away_!"

The flame in her hand flickered brighter.

Fearing for more Elves losing face, Legolas called to them in his native language, confirming the order. A few tried to go to the fallen and whimpering guard.

"_Leave him_!" the dark woman snapped.

Even if they didn't understand, her tone said enough and they retreated to me.

The woman kept her threatening hand raised and stalked over to the guard who was now rocking back and forth, his face covered by his hands.

She commanded him up softly, but when he didn't obey, pulled him to his feet and into the trees.

I stepped forward, I had not sacrificed as much only to lose them both in the end. I could not stand by and listen to his screams of death.

As if in response to my steps, she turned, "_I want you to stay there_," she said. "_You may follow me and retrieve your friend after you count to three thousand_." I opened my mouth to object. "_By sevens_," she added and disappeared into the foliage.

I took another step forward, fully intending to stop the murder that was about to be committed. A hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"Let me go, Naellen," I growled, trying to twist from his grip.

"_Do as she says, Legolas_."

"_I've done enough as she said, and she said she would not kill him if we did as she asked. Look where that got us_!"

"_She gave us her word_."

"_And what is the word of a thief worth_?" I roared. "_She said we may retrieve him. What else could that mean but have his body after she is done with him_?"

"_Wait, Legolas_!" Naellen snapped. "_I will not return to your father with your body as well as his. Just wait…_"

The silence of the forest was terrifying. The scene of the fireball hitting the guard replaying in my head. He must be in s o much pain that he wouldn't make a sound as she finished him off.

It had been long enough. I knew that if we waited any longer we would have no chance at catching her. I started forward and broke out into a run, hearing Naellen start behind me. He did not stop me though, just came with.

We found the guard alone by a tree, gasping for breath and shaking. He pointed ahead, as if reading my mind, and I took off, leaving Naellen to tend to his injuries.

I ran for miles, not wanting to accept the fact that she was gone, free…Stopping and slowing my breathing, I grabbed a rock angrily and threw it, cursing.


	5. Saying Goodbye

A/N: This may be the last installment of Blue…although I think I'll never be able to completely leave her behind, thanks to She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (or it would ruin the fun of these fics:) ) Blue was introduced to me almost four years ago at the beginning of my fanfiction days. This chapter has taken me months to finish because I no longer liked how Blue reacted to Legolas' attentions and her uneasiness regarding his heritage. So, I guess this would be inevitable if they were indeed true characters, and we always don't like the inevitable (me especially!) I have an idea of how to continue from here, but don't know if I like the finality of the idea. Let me know, or it might be awhile before you hear from Blue.

A/N cont: I apologize to Evil's Muse for forgetting to save the author note I typed before I uploaded the last chapter. The recollection of Legolas' last seeing Black was her writing with a few twists to switch perspective. I'll make sure to fix my error! Now, onto the story!

* * *

The connection between us was broken and I once again could feel the horse beneath me, and smell the pasture. For once I was thankful my eyes were closed.

"How long ago was that?" I asked Legolas as I slowly opened my eyes.

"Not long ago. Only a few short years before they returned for you."

We were silent for a short while, listening to the quiet chatter of the Elves around us and lost in the past we both had relived.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew who was after me?"

Legolas swallowed. "Would you have believed my tale of a fire-throwing woman and her bird companions?"

I ignored the last part of his statement and shrugged, knowing that I would have believed everything he said back then.

"I knew you had made contact with them when you wished to learn Westron," he continued. "I didn't want you to communicate with them, but at the time I knew you thought them human and could link you to your past. I could not deny you the right to speak the language of your people."

"They did link me to my past, Legolas," I replied quietly. I had not purposely forgotten to tell him that I had departed from the band with more than just immortality and a sense of rebellion. I felt him still behind me and took a breath to tell him.

"My parents didn't abandon me at the borders of Mirkwood. The old man Black was after had once been a part of a clan called the Raiders. They did just that. Town to town they plundered, burned, and killed. Somewhere he had come across a baby crying in her dead mothers arms—me—and took her to his home, putting fish genes in me and distorting my make-up. I am synthetic…man-made."

Legolas' arms tightened around me protectively, and I forced myself to lift the tone of my voice. "But I could not bring myself to find Black's hatred. I felt nothing and I felt so wrong. I couldn't even grieve over my parents. Is that so wrong?"

The Elf behind me was silent for a moment and when he spoke his voice was soft. "You didn't know them. Maybe it's because unlike Black you found yourself a life to be content with. She had suffered much in her life—no doubt facing many deaths of those around her."

I nodded dumbly, accepting his words. I did know why, but he was right. I had every right to be upset being a mortal amongst Elves. I could have allowed it to corrupt my life and I don't think I'll ever understand why I didn't.

"Do you think I'll ever see them again?"

"Who? Black?"

"No, the other two—Red and Green."

"You may, someday maybe you'll cross paths." I felt Legolas shifting behind me. "Do you still feel as an outsider among Elves?"

I sighed. "I feel like an outsider everywhere I go. Now, I'm a race of my own, it seems, and the only one who could relate to me in that sense is Red, but she was born that way. It seems I am always changing. I can't live more than a few decades without a metamorphosis."

"You are Elf-kind now. You are part of our race—my race."

I shook my head. "No. I'm not an Elf, never will be. Elves cannot be made with magic or spells. Only immortality can be given." I slid my hair behind me ear. "These aren't real. Black shaped them by burning the flesh and molding it while it was hot. Then she healed them just enough to remove the bad scarring, but they're still sensitive."

Legolas did not reply, probably dumbstruck with my confession and staring at them. Then I felt his finger tracing the point.

I shuttered. "Please don't do that. It still causes the same sensation, or so I am told."

I was thankful when he withdrew, but it was soon replaced with the heat of his breath. "You know it doesn't matter to me."

I swallowed hard. "It matters to me. I am illegitimate, not good enough for a prince."

He didn't say anything, but I could feel the anger boiling in him. "Good, for I am no longer a prince," he finally replied, his voice monotone.

"W-what?"

"I am no longer of Mirkwood. I am of Ithilien."

"Oh," I replied, stunned at his declaration. "Does that make you King of Ithilien, then?" I asked in a small voice, already knowing the answer.

"No!" he roared, startling many of the Elves around and the horse, who reared back. Neither Legolas nor I were holding onto the reins. I yelped and I felt Legolas slide back and frantically tried to grasp onto anything, the reins, the saddle, but instead I felt Legolas grab me and I tumbled off with him.

Hitting the ground in Legolas' arms was like déjà vu, and I instantly jumped up, ignoring my protesting muscles and joins to see to him. If I had killed him, I'd never forgive myself.

He was indeed fine, angry more like. He stood, his eyes burning into me.

"Are you all right, my lord?" one of the Elves asked, dismounting.

"Fine," he bit back, grabbing my arm and pulling me away, out of earshot of the Elves in the camp.

"Is this how it's going to be?" he asked when we were more than several yards away from the group. He turned to look at me. "Are you always going to doubt me? Doubt yourself?"

I searched for an answer, looking at him to find what he wished to hear.

"You're not the only one with pain now! You were parted from your friends, yes, but do your realize I have left my life behind? I have done everything I can to make you happy! But still it seems you cannot get past my blood! Am I so much like my father to you? Do you not know me well enough to know that I care nothing of titles and possessions, least of all blood?"

He turned away from me, rubbing his forehead between his fingers. His emotions raging so violently, I don't think he realized how strongly they were pulsing from him. All his unsaid words in his anger and hurt coursed through me, leaving me in speechless agony. I wasn't even aware that I started shaking. The volume of his emotions mixed with my confusion and pain was too much to bear.

"All I want—all I've ever asked from you is trust, and still you cannot," he continued. "You claim to love me, but…" words died on his tongue when his eyes connect with mine. "Aluhin?"

I made no move to curb the tears running down my cheeks, to hide my shaking hands due to his anger, and seeing this, his demeanor softened. He stepped toward me and opened his mouth to no doubt apologize for his actions.

"Don't," I croaked through my sobs, stepping away from his advances, avoiding his eyes because of the pain I'd see there. "Don't apologize. You're right. You're always right. What was I thinking that love could overcome all?"

"What are you saying?"

I finally turned to him and let him see that this was hurting me as much as it was him. "I love you. I love you with every ounce of my essence, with…with more emotion than I thought I had in me, and it scares me to death because I know what you would do for my sake—that you would die—and almost did on more than one occasion—to prevent me from pain. But I can't let you do that, and you can't shelter me from every ill the world throws my way."

"You don't have to let me, we'll face strife together."

"But don't you see, Legolas? Even though we grew up in the same city, we belong to separate worlds. I can't live the palace life and you can't live without it. I don't want to live a lie, or be forced to hide whenever your father visits. I don't want to be only known as your mistress and be the topic of nightly gossip among your people because my ears can't reach their words. I don't want you to protect me from the evils that dwell in the world or treat me like glass. I might not seem like a whole person or feel like one, but I want to live. And I want you to live. You can't deny yourself that there are pleasures you yearn for that you have given up for me. And who am I to deny you them? I have no place of power, no reason to speak my mind or be listened to! I have done nothing to earn anyone's respect or love! My life is a mistake! And I cannot let you make this one!"

I turned away from him, sobbing to the point I couldn't speak any longer. The look on his face told me he was denying what I was saying to him, but my words were breaking him.

The truth was, they were breaking me.

"I will never be able to repay you for what you have done for me, but I think we both knew that when you proposed to hide me during that dinner all those years ago; but I hope that the time I spent with you was not terribly dreadful and I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you. I'm sorry for everything."

I took one last look at him through my tears and made to turn away.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he cried, approaching me to grasp me desperately. "Why would you leave me? Why can't we go back to how things were? Rely on love…"

"Things change, Legolas. People change. I'm not the innocent I was. I died in your arms by your father's sword and was reborn in the river outside your home. The mission with the Ring changed you. I know the pain you suffered from its pull—the pull which you wouldn't have felt if I would have never let you keep me. It plagued your mind with falsehoods about me. I am not what your mind fabricated me to be. You need to be free of me, free to live the life of your choosing, not one forced upon you because of my insecurity."

His hands gripped my upper arms as his teary eyes searched me, frantic to find something we both knew he wouldn't find. "This freedom is worth more than I can give you, then? You would rather us both suffer—"

"Don't you dare speak of that! We both know you can find something—someone to keep your soul in Middle-earth. Don't give up without a chance. What way is it to die like that? It's suicide, Legolas. It's no different than thrusting a sword into yourself, no more honorable either. The best archer in Middle-earth has more to his reputation and self-respect than to kill himself! I know you better than anyone except perhaps yourself. We both know how you survived the ten years separation, but this time hold onto a different hope. Hope for a wife. Forget about me. Return to Mirkwood, journey to Lothlorien—to Rivendell…"

I had never seen the look on his face that he wore when I made that request. His eyes brimmed red, welling with tears that he held back from falling. His adam's apple quivered as he struggled to speak. "A wife? That's what you ask of me? Forget you and find a wife? Has living with Elves for two decades taught you nothing?"

"I know of your heart. I'm not stupid. We both know you must in order to survive…"

He withdrew his hands as if I suddenly burned him. "What do you care if I survive? You obviously don't feel anything toward me!" he back away from me. "Leave if you insist!" he yelled, waving his arm across the grassy planes of Rohan. "It's all you ever seem to do! Run into the woods! Across Middle-earth! But don't expect me to make any promises this time. I'm sure you'll have no problem forgetting me—you've done it before. Don't come crawling back expecting me to take you in. Remember that you wanted this…you didn't want me…"

His words stung, but I knew he didn't mean them. He was hurting—we were both hurting…it was his way of shielding his heart.

"Just…" his lip quivered in anger and the sobs finally broke through his restraint. He turned away, obviously not wanting me to see him in such a state that had been my doing.

I wanted to say 'I love you' or share one last kiss with him, but he hated me now. He never wanted to see or hear from me again.

I couldn't blame him.

So I turned away from him, whistling for my horse and placing his belongings in the grass for him to find, and rode away resisting the urge to look back. Instead, I looked at the vast nothingness ahead of me and wondered what would come of my spur of the moment decision…and what would become of him…


End file.
